


Not a Demon, Not an Angel

by Red_Rogue



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Pre Red Hood, Resurrection, Self-Esteem Issues, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 14:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Rogue/pseuds/Red_Rogue
Summary: Wings. What the heck? Why did Jason get wings? He never asked for them. But the pit decided that he needed them. Sure. Why not?





	Not a Demon, Not an Angel

Jason Todd. Died once, with enough horrors of a lifetime to make a lesser man tremble with fear every second of his life. But Jason wouldn't back down in front of these horrors instead he'd stand up and fight back. He was one of those kids that would ding dong ditch Death's door step leaving a pile of rocks at the door. 

When the pit had brought Jason literally back from the dead it decided to do Jason a favor. Or rather a disfavor in Jason's book. A karma in a sense. 

It had decided to give Jason wings. 

The semantics of it all weren't lost on Jason. The Angel versus the Demon. Blah Blah Blah...How he died- the religious aspect on it all was not lost in the slightest.

Now wings are either one of two things Jason had decided during his insomnia filled nights. They were either beautiful and heavenly or literally another a pain in the ass. 

When Jason had first woken up in the care of Talia and attempted to walk around the base, he had pulled his wimpy, newly reanimated body out of the bed and onto his feet. 

With that victory in hand he made to take a step towards the door and then thanks to gravity- beautifully sprawled himself all over the concrete floor. He's pretty sure that Talia still has a picture stashed away somewhere. His ego had hurt more than anything else. 

It had taken Talia and two other servants/ninjas to haul his ass back into his sick bed. To say the least that was more than embarrassing than he would ever care to imagine. The lesson re-learned was wings were as heavy as fuck and as useless as they appeared. 

For starters he knew that no one else on the entire planet had wings that came from the pit. Talia during his stay had made sure of it- checking through her vast sources. The pit had chosen him Talia tried to reason but only Jason could see it as it was his curse to bare.

A few weeks after the whole wings and gravity don't mix lesson he was looking at his reflection on one of the mirrors in the bunker. Finally able to walk on his own at a reasonable pace without tipping over thanks to the useless appendages on his back now. 

Some of his scars had disappeared but there was one on his chest that drew his attention. The large 'Y' shaped scar that completely destroyed his belly button. It took exactly one minute for Jason to figure out what exactly that scar meant. He tore out of the bathroom and couldn't bring himself to look at himself in the mirror for weeks.

The next time he could brave his reflection he only had eyes for the wings. Other than being heavy as fuck Jason didn't know anything else about them. When he looked in the mirror he didn't see the angelic angel wings that people typically see. White and prestige but instead he had brown spotted wings with some oddly tinted red feathers. His feathers resembled an owl's plumage. 

He hated them. 

They stretched from the over the top  
of his head to his ankles. They impeded his movement and balance. His ability to walk and his pride were greatly wounded due to this side affect. 

And then there were the molts. 

He remembered his first molt while being in Talia's care. An entire weak of literally shedding his feathers off. 

Some were super delicate and sensitive and all had to be shoved out of the bones and then the new ones took its place. They all had to be pushed out and then the pin feathers came in. And the pin feathers were time sensitive. Too early breaking the casing could cause bleeding and just in general they itched like the dickens. 

All in all more of a hassle than they were worth. 

It was a week of pure hell for Jason. He had tired and sore from all the work his body really didn't need to be doing. Not to mention that there were enough feathers to stuff all the pillows in the manor. After that molt Jason was looking at his feathers and wings. Talia had said they were a gift from the pit.

To Jason it was a constant reminder that he died. 

And should have stayed dead.

He should have gone to heaven. Or hell. Whatever it might be. 

In the heat of the moment the night Jason was recovering from his molt he picked up some gauze and started wrapping his wings so that they would lay flat. They didn't lay flat exactly but it was better than putting them on sight for everyone to see. 

Like some monkey in a circus cage. 

The main factor was so that he wouldn't have to see them. The wrappings had hurt the rest of the month but they kept them out of site and out of mind. 

The Wings continued to cause Jason much strife along with the pit. Whenever he'd get angry and try to storm off to his room he'd first forget that the wings were powerful and could bust through the gauze. That caused them secondly to flare out and not allow him to fit through the width of the door. 

And lastly his newly found 6 foot stature wasn't exactly kosher with the smaller door frame heights built for the bunker. So he'd try to storm off through a tiny door and get knocked onto his ass because he couldn't fit through the door. 

Sometimes Jason though the could see the servants hidden smiles underneath their layers of stone. Mocking the fact that he could barely make it through any door anymore. 

And then there was the fact that Talia would cut through his bandages once every month, to change them and to clean his feathers. 

She said it was to keep his feathers from getting infected. She didn't approve of hiding them from others but she allowed it for the time being. 

One particular cleaning session happened one night nearly 6 months after he was dumped into the pit stood out. Talia was 'supervising' her servants that were cleaning his feathers.

It was rather uneventful until she gave him a newspaper from Gotham. Jason stood up, pulling his wings away from the picking and prodding. His feathers bristled as he saw the front page's picture. 

On the front was a picture of a new robin. Jason didn't know how to feel. The boy looked young and happy. Envy stirred up into his veins, threatening to ignite. 

"Who is he Talia?"

"His name is Timothy Drake. He is Robin"

The paper in his hands began to crinkle. Talia could see his wings beginning to ripple. 

"How long?"

"He was first spotted nearly 3 months ago. His training began almost 8 months prior"

By his math this boy had become Robin mere weeks, no days after he had been buried. 

Bruce had done it again. Picked up another innocent off the street to fight his war. Talia must have sensed his anger and left the room with the other servants trailing behind. 

After the door had shut he threw the paper in anger and agony with a roar wings snapping out, full and menacing. 

He had been forgotten in mere seconds.

Replaced by another.

Tossed aside like a broken toy. 

The pages fluttered to the ground, littering it in shades of black, white, red, green and yellow along with pieces of his plumage. Through his tears a single word caught his eye. 

It stopped his heart cold. He quickly folded his wings so he could sit down and read it again. And then again unable to comprehend the facts boated on the paper. 

JOKER RETURNED TO ARKHAM ASYLUM... AGAIN

**Author's Note:**

> Funny enough this idea came to me in a dream. Finally getting it posted. Chapter 2 is on it's way. Probably. It might take a while... 
> 
> Tbc


End file.
